Meant To Live
by Keira18
Summary: Charred and burning bodies lay around her their mouths open in a silent scream. A hand grabbed at her ankle and she looked into the eyes of what had once been her mother.
1. Chapter 1

_Yes, thats right this is newly updated and fresh! In the midst of my college angst I am posting my story fresh just for all of my loyal readers. (Really though this is just a pleasant distraction my harsh reality)_

_Special thanks to my editor-in-chief Loki. Hands him shiny Sheriff Badge and mace Just watch where you point that can._

_"When they took the second amendment, I was quiet because I didn't own a gun!_

_Now they've taken the first amendment, and I can say nothing at all. What luck for rulers, that men do not think."_

_-Adolph Hitler_

_Enjoy!;p_

_Standard Disclaimer applies for all._

**Chapter 1**

"I bring in enough money to feed the entire block and you always seem to squander it on some new pair of shoes that you 'just had to buy'." Her father's voice rose a little at the end to mimic that of her mother. She could see in his face that this was one of those fights where the parental units were going to get physical.

"And what about you, mister 'holier than thou'. You take at least half of this family's income just so you can lose it playing poker. Get over it; you suck at the game." The slap sent her scrambling from her hiding spot to go find Grandpa. Upon seeing her, the ancient man lifted her up onto his knee and she responded by snuggling into his chest. He was very comfortable. Grandma called him fat, but little Serenity liked it -- the big rolls of flabby flesh provided her with very comfortable pillows and he was never cold. She loved that about him. He was her -- safe spot -- much more reliable than her hiding place under the table.

He stroked her back; already knowing what was troubling the seven-year-old, and in response, sat up straighter. "Now look at this little bumblebee. Its psychic time." She could feel his deep voice reverberating throughout his body and a smile appeared on her face. She loved Grandpa.

Psychic time was, in all actuality, just the lottery game, but it was fun. It was her sworn duty and honor to say the numbers before the lady on the TV. If she didn't say them, Grandpa would get bad luck the next time he played.

Suddenly, a crash was heard in the kitchen and little Serenity snuggled deeper into Grandpa. She didn't want to be cold. It was always cold when Grandpa left. The first ball came up. Serenity obediently said the number six, then seven, then three. Those numbers sounded oddly familiar to the young girl, but she unfortunately, did not have much time to think about it, for her body had involuntarily jumped. The voices in the kitchen were getting louder and little Serenity could not get the number out before the lady. A tear slid down her cheek, she had failed her Grandpa. Her failure was short-lived, however, when Grandpa suddenly jumped out of the chair with her in his arms shouting for everyone to get into the basement.

There were loud noises coming from outside that reminded her of one of her favorite shows, "Jay-Jay -- The Jet Plane." She remembered Grandpa telling her about his time in World War something and making noises like those outside. She caught a glimpse through the window as her Grandpa hurried her toward the stairs. Her crystal-blue eyes reflected the red fire outside as something she would later come to know as a bomb was dropped on the house next door.

Grandpa yelled once again as her father came out of the kitchen calling him a crazy old man. She was scared by the tone in his voice, but comforted by her Grandfather's warmth -- always his warmth. He set her down upon the basement steps and told her to go all the way down and not come back until he called her. She had to obey.

She heard her parents yelling, trying to explain the fact the planes were simply doing one of their regular test flights, but Grandpa was adamant in his decision to send Serenity down into the basement.

Her parents called her Grandpa a paranoid old man and gave him his medicine -- he hated his medicine. It made him sleepy, but she could do nothing to help. Grandpa had told her to stay where she was and she had to obey. Then she heard the sound of Desperate scratches at the door followed by the sound of desperate pounding that rattled Serenity's frightened little body the same way it shook the reinforced door. She couldn't leave. She had promised Grandpa.

She waited and heard the shouting grow much louder. Then she listened frozen to the spot as the -- great big booms rocked the house to its foundations. She felt as if she were inside a drum while someone played very loudly. She cried out for Grandpa. He didn't answer and she was scared. After the terrible booms had stopped, she waited. She didn't know how long she waited, but after a very long time, she realized Grandpa might need her and began to climb the steps. She knew she shouldn't, but Grandpa was upstairs and she needed to take care of him the way he took care of her.

It was hard to climb the steps, and she couldn't breathe. She knew she had to get up there no matter what. On her journey, she realized the lotto numbers on the TV had been on the paper in Grandpa's hand. He had won. She smiled. He had played little Serenity's address: 6739.

Light poured into the silent basement. Serenity ran towards it and found Grandpa's hand. She grabbed it and called his name -- nothing. Shock hit her as she realized there was no sound and lots of smoke. It was always cold when Grandpa left. She crawled over Grandpa's body and looked outside. This was not altogether a hard task as her entire house had been decimated and lay in ruins around her. The only thing that looked remotely familiar was the now damaged address plate.

Her azure orbs widened in horror as she took in something a seven-year-old should never see -- the entire block was on fire. She looked behind her at what remained of her house. Charred and burning bodies lay about her; their mouths open in a silent scream. A hand grabbed at her ankle and she looked into the eyes of what had once been her mother.

She jerked her foot away in fear and allowed herself the thought that this woman could not possibly be her mother. There was just no way. It didn't matter anyway, as the strange lady was already in heaven. She wanted Grandpa. She crawled over to his giant frame and willed her tears to stop. Grandpa was fine. It didn't matter that only the top half of his body remained in tact, or that his face was barely recognizable. He wouldn't go to heaven. He was just cold. Serenity hated the cold. She wanted to be warm. Grandpa would not leave her. She looked at her mailbox. 6739.

She was cold.

It was always cold when Grandpa left.

_Remember to review! Kuddos!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It would be a lie if she said she never thought about them, that the day they died she had erased everything from her memory and moved on. That would have been a blessing. If anyone had managed to find the strength to move on after the attacks, she envied them. She had of course, tried to get over it, and her 7-year-old mind had almost done just that when they attacked once again. It seemed they were hell bent on destroying every major city in the United States. Her small home in New York had been simply one of the many bombed that day.

Now, at the age of nineteen, she wasn't fairing much better. Her entire life she had to redefine the meaning of her existence. The government tried to send relief troops to as many devastated areas as possible, but the opposing side had thwarted all efforts made to this end. They still had no idea who it was actually attacking them, so they were putting the blame on just about everyone, and in doing so, had lost some very valuable allies in the process, including Great Britain.

Immigration laws were set so no one could enter or leave the country without the consent of a government official, and these were elusive and unresponsive at the best of times. There had been over ten presidents in the past thirteen years and they had all been assassinated. Now, no one even bothered to step up to the position. It was ironic that the people allowed a woman of color to assume the presidency, only to have her gunned down on the day of her inauguration. One of the greatest accomplishments of all time cut down before anyone could really enjoy it.

After that incident, the government had transformed itself into an oligarchy and moved frequently to avoid attempts on the lives of those in power. While this was effective in stopping assassination attempts, it was crippling the process of law and government, since they were always on the move. Basically, the country was on its own. "If your obstacles bring you down, then let your determination bring you up." Shilpa Lad had often said, this had, for a long time been the force that drove the American spirit. But it had been stomped upon repeatedly, spit on, kicked in the dirt, beaten into a bloody pulp, crapped on and had changed to, "every man for himself." And thus, the reason she had grown up an orphan.

* * *

One crystal-blue eye blinked open before the amalgam of interconnected body parts moved as one into a sitting position - the blonde rubbed sleep from her eyes as she released her morning yawn and proceeded to stretch. It was deathly quiet, which was an unordinary occurrence within her hideout. Usually, there would be a particular blue-haired genius crashing around the house looking for something she had misplaced. They had been lucky to find each other – she and Amy - they were sort of the George and Lennie of Arthur Miller's Of Mice and Men. The only problem with this was that Amy would play the role of George, leaving Serena the role of Lennie and that pretty much sucked. She scratched the analogy from her head as she made her trip to the leaky pipe that served as their washroom. As she turned the corner, colliding with a preoccupied Amy, who ignored the fact she may have broken her best friend's body into a gazillion pieces. Instead of asking if she were all right, Amy scrambled to pick up her scattered papers as if they had been the injured party.

"Sorry Sere, I'm on the verge of a major breakthrough." With that, Ami stood up and ran off without a backward glance at the hapless blonde. The latter sprawled upon the floor with her hand firmly planted over her nose. It was moments before she moved into a sitting position – one word escaping her lips. "Ouch."

Ami had been the 'new kid' at Serena's school the day before the attacks. She was immediately labeled a nerd and anyone who so much as talked to her would find themselves labeled a loser. It hadn't really fazed the seven-year-old Serena, since no one talked to her either. It wasn't for lack of trying though. Many of her peers had tried and failed miserably in attaining the blonde's attention. It wasn't their fault; Serena just didn't talk- in school anyway. She had to be careful, if anyone found out about her life they would take her away. Amy had sensed her isolation and had kept her distance. The two had never actually spoken until the day of the attack. Serena had still been cuddled next to her grandfather, not caring that the fire was moving ever closer to her small body, when Amy appeared. It had been a shock at first to find anyone else was alive, but it was obvious that she was running from something. She had tripped over the lifeless body of Serena's mother when their eyes met. While Serena would have been quite content to remain where she was, Amy had other plans. She grabbed her fellow student roughly by the arms and pulled her along as she ran into an alley. They barely missed being spotted by the soldiers that ran past them. Serena collapsed into her savior's arms and felt her world go dark.

* * *

The brunette crouched behind a stone wall, scarcely daring to breathe. Her hair clung to her sweaty face, her bottom lip held captive by the vice-like grip of her teeth and her lip was beginning to bleed. One arm clutching the other that should have been whole, but now was reduced to a bloody mess of mangled tendons, ligaments and bone. Pain raced through her body and rushed straight to her heart. The cold rain struck her like icy needles as if to punish her further. It was miraculous that this young girl managed to survive her brutal attackers, especially when so many others had not. Her clothes were as if by magic what had saved her, these now hung off her trembling body as mere rags. She thanked everything holy once again for her decision to wear black, as this enabled her to blend into the shadows of the alley and miss the brunt of the suicide bomber's act of mindless destruction. Her friends had not been so lucky and the tears making rivers down her face was evidence of her inner torment. Their faces flashed before her eyes as she struggled for breath, Janaki with her flashing emerald-green eyes and constant smile, or Evan with his seemingly permanent scowl and ropy brown hair. Thinking of them only intensified her pain and a sob escaped her clenched teeth. As soon as the accursed sound passed through her lips, the sound of gunfire was heard and she pulled her reluctant body to its feet and ran for what remained of her life. The pain became almost unbearable and she soon collapsed from exhaustion. As luck would have it, a handy cliff was to be found nearby and she tumbled down its rocky incline, apologizing to her remaining loved ones as her pursuer's footsteps drew ever closer. Her body finally stopped when she hit the base of a pine tree, the blow striking her ribs. The pain was excruciating. When she heard her predators somewhere above, she prayed they would take her life quickly. She waited for them for what seemed to take forever, but they always seemed to pass by, not noticing her broken body below. Shouting insults at each other, before finally giving up. Hope returned and she tried to stay awake, thinking about the life she could still live, but she was too tired and it hurt so badly. She was just so cold.

* * *

Darien Shields was not having a good night. His group of resistance soldiers was nowhere to be found. The situation clearly dictated the necessity of their presence. Survivors were running through dark streets in an attempt to flee from the foot soldiers that were hunting them down. Darien had trained his men specifically for this reason: to protect those who needed them. To be there when danger was imminent and the lives of civilians were at stake. To be the heroes that put children to bed at night and the hope that drove adults at the start of each new day.

They had trained long and hard for such occurrences and would probably have had more credulity if they weren't so young. Yes, Darien's "men" were really boys, no older than twenty-two and no younger than sixteen. Younger boys wanting to help learned how to sew clothes and filter water, but Darien chose a select few too serve under him. He had selected four generals: Kevin, Zachary, Matthew and Jeremy. These four in turn hand picked their own men, with Darien's occasional suggestions, to make up their "army" and they all trained together. The problem was that everyone had lost trust in each other and so; many of the boys suggested code names. Despite the older boys believing it childish, they had taken to calling each other by weird terms. Darien, of course had gotten the name 'Prince', Kevin was 'Malachite', Zachary was 'Zoicite', Matthew was 'Nephrite', and Jeremy was 'Jadeite'. These were the usual names they went by. Others included Booger, Hangnail, Popcorn, Porky, and of course, Rock man.

Darien cursed as a civilian was shot in the back and decided his so-called army would be severely punished later. His thought process was interrupted as a child was pushed in front of a moving army vehicle. He was about to pull the child out of harm's way, but was beaten back by the hysterical crowd. He made another attempt and cursed as a bleeding woman grabbed his shirt pleading for help. His eyes locked on the child and he felt a sharp pain in his heart knowing that he would never make it in time. He was about to turn away from the oncoming gruesome sight he was sure was to come when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A flash of blonde dove at the crying boy and in a swift movement had grabbed the terrified child and rolled out of the way. Darien quickly shoved the desperate woman at his side off him and pushed through the crowd with renewed vigor. An armed man now had a gun barrel pressed against the girl's forehead as she crouched in front of him. Her blue eyes flashed with defiance as the boy in her arms clung to her for all he was worth. The 'gunshot that echoed around the world' was nothing compared to the shot fired from that gun. Darien had managed to tackle the man; just enough to redirect his aim and the girl had flung the child off her as a reflex reaction. At first, he hadn't noticed she was hurt. He made sure the soldier was unconscious, but when he turned to her, she had the most peculiar look on her face. Their eyes locked for a second or two before she slumped forward. Her head hitting the hard pavement with a resounding thud as Darien stood frozen to the spot. After standing like an idiot for a few moments, he quickly knelt beside her and looked for a pulse and thanked everything holy when he found one. It was a weak and rapid one, but she would be all right. After making sure she was alive, he searched for her wound and found it on her upper abdomen. Blood gushed from her wound. He wondered if anyone could survive after losing so much blood. The child was clinging to her hand as if she was his only kin. Darien was shocked he had not abandoned her.

He pushed down hard on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. He was fighting a losing battle. But he was a stubborn fool and hurriedly took off his jacket in an attempt to warm her cooling body. His efforts were rewarded when she snuggled deeper into the warmth of his jacket. With renewed determination, he pushed his hand harder on her wound to stem the bleeding. She winced, although she did not fully regain consciousness. He looked up as the sound of cheers from the gathering crowd of onlookers. Armed men were coming in from four different sections and fighting their opponents with brutal efficiency. The soldiers were being beaten back; his army had arrived.


	3. Promises

Forgot the disclaimer oops. Um Sailormoon is not mine which is pretty fortunate since I like to see most of my characters in pain and I doubt any of them really appreciate it. So anyway onwards and upwards.

* * *

Two rivers made their way down the girls face. Cocking its head, one of the few remaining birds of earth looked at the girl, trying to figure out what he could do to bring her out of the miserable hole that she had dug for herself. In truth, the only reason he cared was because she and the blonde had always made sure to leave what scraps they could out for the birds. Now that there was only one girl, there would be no food. The blonde had disappeared a week ago, and her nest-sister had been going out early in the mornings and not returning till late at night. That was a danger in itself as there were secrets of the night that were better left undiscovered, but what really peeved the little bird was the fact that with both girls gone, he would starve. Seeing once again that his night would end in a futile attempt at gathering food, he decided to cut his losses and return home. And so this was why his last thoughts concerned food and fickle teenage girls. He never even heard the gunshot that took his life and made him dinner for some lucky person that night.

Amy sat with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped tightly around them, as if to prevent her body falling apart at its joints. Her forehead pressed heavily into her knees as sobs threatened to shatter what remained of her frail spirit. She had never been overly healthy, although she had done her best to remain alive for the past thirteen years without the assistance of doctors or her mother. She had survived extreme bouts of illness –a remarkable achievement considering she had been born premature with an underdeveloped, severely weakened immune system. That, and the fact America had overnight turned into a third world country, should have signed her death warrant. But Amy was resilient and fought for her life, tooth and nail. Serena had helped whenever she could and had taken care of her friend whenever she hit her rough patches. They had taken care of each other.

Now Amy felt dead. There was a hole where her friend's presence had once been. They had never been apart for more than a night, and Serena had been missing for a week now.

By afternoon on the second day, Amy set out to find her lost comrade, returning soon after. The only thing the darkness offered was an everlasting coldness that would numb the warmest heart - seven nights. That's how long Serena had been gone. A person was lucky if they could survive one, and Serena, had been missing for seven. And problems only got worse as Amy's health continued to deteriorate. Serena would have naturally worried for her friend, afraid she would die. But this was the farthest thing from Amy's mind at the moment. It was partly her fault she had become so sick in such a short time. She hadn't eaten anything in all the time she had been searching for Serena, and had slept fitfully most nights. She wasn't taking care of herself and it was beginning to show. Serena would have definitely been furious.

She gulped as she thought of her friend's burning blue eyes, livid with anger for allowing herself to get so ill. She could hear her voice reprimanding her now: "You stupid little dolt! You'd think with all your knowledge of health that you'd be able to take care of yourself, but no, Amy has other plans and doesn't see fit to take care of herself. Don't you think of me when it comes to your health? Would you leave me alone in this cruel cold world?"

She wanted to scream in anger at the blonde haired elf for leaving her alone. They promised each other they would never part. She had kept her promise, but Serena… Serena had broken hers.

* * *

It was not a pleasant feeling for anyone to wake up with an empty stomach, especially when- said person was a- one Serena… So, she had forgotten her last name…that didn't mean much. She remembered everything else. Amy that was the one thing she remembered, or felt, rather, something was wrong and she knew she had to get home.

Serena tried to move into a sitting position, but immediately regretted it as her head quickly started its rendition of Mardi gras inside her skull as the sound of an unfamiliar voice swam about her. "You really shouldn't be moving around you know."

'Gee…no shit Sherlock.' She, of course, said to herself. To the dark-haired loser before her she answered in the best - little girl voice she could muster, "Where am I?"

"My place, do you remember anything about what happened?"

Ah yes. That was something she should have remembered off the bat. The kid, the trucks and the - oh so pleasant - soldiers who were only too happy to teach her what metal actually tasted like. "Listen…it was really nice of you to help me and all, but I've got to go." With that said, she made a valiant effort to get to her feet and fell flat on her rear end.

"Well, I see no reason why you can't leave. Why don't you just run along home?"

"I would have taken that as a wonderful piece of advice if your voice wasn't laced with such obvious sarcasm." Okay, that little fall had really hurt, and this jerk was not making matters any better. In fact, she didn't even know his name, some rescuer. Where was the heroic speech that was supposed to make her fall over herself to get to him? She looked him over and took in his appearance. He wasn't bad looking when you really got down to it. He had short ebony locks that brushed past his forehead falling into his cobalt eyes, not to mention the strong chin and very kissable… Okay, so he was gorgeous. But that didn't change the fact that he was—

"Have you finished adoring my beautifulness?"

"Beautifulness' is that even a word?" she shot back, before giving a snort.

"If I said it, then it obviously is."

"You suck when it comes to boosting someone's self-esteem."

"I didn't know that was in my job description, Blondie."

"My name is not Blondie, its Serena. And if I ever became part of your job then I would ask someone to shoot me," she retorted.

"You already did that now, didn't you?"

Okay, that was low she told herself, her eyes not leaving his for a second. "As happy as this conversation is making your pea-sized brain, I have a friend that I have to find."

"No need, he's fine." He…she didn't have any guy friends - all the guys that survived had become violent and never took no for an answer. And she had left Ami alone with them out there. If it were physically possible for a persons' leg to kick the butt of its owner- then her own sorry butt would be in a shit-load of pain at that moment. As things stood, that was impossible and so she settled for banging her head upon the wall. That turned out to be a dumb idea since the damn wall just happened to be solid marble. She hissed and put a trembling hand to her bruised forehead. Fortunately, with this excruciating pain came the knowledge of whom the - dumb ass – was talking about. That little kid who had gotten himself thrown into the middle of the damn street. "Not that I'm worried, or anything, but are you sure you should be giving yourself even more brain damage? You don't seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed."

"I'm sending you a death ray right now. If it works then I'll be forever grateful."

"Sorry Blondie can't get rid of me that easy. I'm immune to the devil's children and their evil powers."

"Then shouldn't your body be attacking itself," she shot back, sarcastically.

"Of course not… I am God's gift to the world. It's only out of respect to him that I don't touch you. That could transfer my immunity to you and destroy your evil soul. But as appealing as that prospect is, you amuse me."

"Your face amuses me," she quipped.

"And she comes out swinging."

"Bite me…asshole!"

"Hey, if you ever get pregnant, can I have one of your puppies?"

This was surprisingly amusing. The great, Darien Shields was arguing with a girl who didn't even look out of her teens. Malachite looked over his shoulder at the hordes of men surrounding the door, trying to listen into the insulting conversation taking place inside.

He shook his head, a smirk illuminating his usually serious face. Yes, if anything could get the troop's morale up, it was this. To see their leader act like an actual - human being - for once was not only entertaining, but also refreshing. The next battle would be brilliant for this band of men, by simply just having their hope renewed by this little turn of events. The downside being, that if this girl left, so would the troops morale and that was something the army could not afford right now. If it was the last thing he did, he would make sure that girl wouldn't leave the premises.

* * *

The stones shouldn't have bothered her. They had, after all, been placed upon her shoulders ever since she was eight years old. Now, as she stood with a bucket full of heavy rocks strapped over each shoulder, she looked out upon what had once been a great nation.

People milled around, engaging in an assortment of different tasks. Some cut stones to add to the weight of the former first daughter, while still others carried the corpses of what had once been their peers to the ovens. It was Hitler all over again, right down to the numbers. The only significant difference was that it wasn't only Jews or gypsies these men were after; it was anyone who had even dared live in the United States when the attacks had begun. New people were brought in every day, and those whose spirits weren't already broken, told tales of freedom. Sure, they told stories about the filth and dire lack of housing, but even with all that, it still seemed a fantasy, a fantasy that Ray wanted, and wanted very badly.

She once dreamt of escaping this hellhole, but she had the intelligence not to follow through with those plans. Others had, and were brought back to the camp, looking...there was no way to describe what they actually looked like except to say, it definitely wasn't human. The closest description Ray could come up with was that they appeared to be masses of congealed blood with hints of flesh; they were called - the majelies - and these poor bastards had haunted Ray's dreams since the time she was first brought to the camp. They were put on display and paraded throughout the grounds, and those who bore witness soon forgot any plans of heroic escapes and valiant deaths they might have held. Nobody died before they were tortured to extreme lengths and there was no escape. It was a hard lesson to learn and anyone who didn't learn it was considered a fool, those that did manage to live yet another day.

Ray had lived 4745 days in the camp and did not intend to trade that for a trip to the torture chamber. No, she would stay and pray that maybe, one day, someone from the outside would care enough to liberate the camps and free the survivors.

Stories were told of a handsome prince that fought the invaders every night, giving no opportunity for anyone under his protection to get caught. The only things known regarding his appearance were his striking features, his ebony hair and stormy blue eyes. This was due in large part to the fact that nobody wanted to risk his capture. So, anyone who saw him instantly erased his image from their memory. But his hair and eyes were simply unforgettable and thus remained his only description. Ray had etched an image of her hero within her mind and had even made a promise at the tender age of thirteen to marry him if she ever met him. She had promised herself to a complete stranger, and saw no reason to break that promise.

Another stone was dropped into her bucket and her body shuddered at the added weight. A tear trekked its way down her cheek as her lips parted in a song that was sung all around the world. "Happy Birthday to me… Happy Birthday to me… Happy Birthday 090584… Happy Birthday to me..."

* * *

Her breath came in deep pants as she raced through the trees as fast as her legs would carry her. She continued to mentally berate herself even as she tripped and fell down the steep incline. When her body stopped at the foot of the hill she picked herself up and continued her frantic pace.

She ignored the stitch in her side and the blood that was seeping from a wound on her head. Only one thing was on her mind: get home and get home fast.

Even as she thought this the moon rose in the sky and she moaned her fear as the yelling started. She was the stupidest human being alive. Why oh why had she stayed out so late? There was no way that she would make it back before they came for her. She was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. There was no further explanation needed and she quickly scanned her surroundings for a hiding spot.

She prayed fervently that Serena was here since she was the brawn of their operations but as soon as the thought had come to her mind she was ashamed. If Serena were with her than she would be in danger as well and there was little she would be able to do against the pack of animals.

She finally came across a large oak tree that could be easily climbed. The best thing about her hiding spot was that the tree's branches were thick with their summer leaves and so the cover they provided was more than adequate.

Quickly she scrambled up the tree as far as she could and then hugged her knees to her chest as she pressed her back against the trunk.

Finally her breathing slowed and her head cleared itself of the blind fear that had taken it hostage. She let out a slow breath as the yelling came closer to her and pulled her body into as small a ball as possible. Seconds ticked by aimlessly as the predators came scrambling through the foliage.

From her vantage point she could clearly see them and, although they were her own kind, she was disgusted by them.

The males ranged from adolescents just hitting puberty to old men with wrinkles on their bodies. They were all naked and they were all filthy messes. She watched as they shoved each other around in play and even swapped kisses and other favors from each other. Through it all they kept up a howling yell that brought shivers to anyone not in their gang.

After what seemed like forever one of the men let out a sort of 'whoop' and gave chase to a dark outline that was running for dear life. Ami's eyes were dead as she watched them easily catch their quarry and drag it kicking and screaming to a more comfortable area of the woods.

And though they had walked quite some distance from the tree, Ami could still hear the screams as they reverberated through the night air.

* * *

Mina Thompson could hardly call herself a survivor. Since before she could remember she had been living off of Daddy's fat wallet and it disgusted her to no end.

Now, as she looked out of the window of her home, she could clearly see the devastation that the attackers had caused. She turned her head away abruptly not wanting to see what her father, her hero, was trying to keep her from.

He had bought a home built into the mountains shortly after the attacks had begun and had hired his own militia of sorts to protect him and his family. In short the blonde now lived in a metal fortress complete with bullet proof windows and a luxury bomb shelter. She snorted in disgust.

She should not be living like this. Not while so many others suffered and called out for help. Mina wanted nothing more than to fling open the doors of her enclosure and let in everyone that would fit. It was wishful thinking.

Since the danger had started, she had been forbidden from leaving the grounds or going anywhere near the doors. She was lucky she was allowed to look out the window, but those of course could become metal shields at will so she couldn't even get hit by bird poop if she wanted.

Her hands knotted into fists. She wanted to get out there. Help people not stay in here and wait for it to all be over so that by the time she did get out there would be no one to help.

She wanted to be the hero that she had thought her father to be and she would not be cowed out of her new dream. She would go outside and she would bring tons of supplies and the people would be all the more grateful for it. They would offer her shelter and friendship and at night they could have parties. She smiled at her picturesque fantasy. She would make it happen and no one, not even her father would be able to stop her.

* * *

Serena crouched down among the ruins of her old home. Ami's books were strewn everywhere and there was blood covering some walls. She felt the vomit before it came upon her and still she could not go anywhere in private to relieve herself.

Darien came up behind her pulling her hair out of her face. Offering her what comfort he could. The place was not pretty. It looked as if a struggle had gone on and it did not take a genius to see who had won.

Serena's body would not stop shaking. She tried to suppress the sob that tore through her throat but it came anyway, followed in short by hot tears and hard sobs that shook her body. She pressed her forehead into her knees trying to stop the pain that was assaulting her at all ends.

She was dead.

Ami, her savior, her sister, her everything was dead.

How could this have happened? She remembered the last time she had seen her. It had been right before she had gone out. Ami had been prattling on about something or other and than she had turned abruptly and told her to be careful, that she loved her. It was a very Ami thing to do and so Serena hadn't paid it much attention. She had promised to be back before dark and gone through the hole that served as their door.

And now she was dead. Her sister and strength was dead.

Thoughts flashed through her head of all the corpses she had seen and she prayed that Ami's body didn't look like theirs.

Memories assaulted her until finally they came to rest on her grandfather. His smile and laugh and his protective arms. She hugged herself tighter as the memory of his half-body came into her head.

Why?

She hadn't had enough time with either of them. There was no excuse and she cursed every deity that she could think of.

Why?

She shivered as her sobs subsided, ignoring Darien's warm hand on her back.

It wasn't enough.

The memories, her new friends. It wasn't enough.

She lay her head on the cold pavement. That's what she wanted. To be cold like her family, like all those victims...like Ami.

She shivered.

Ami was dead. The absolution of it resounded in her head. There was no coming back from that eternal cold.

Why couldn't she have died with them? Why couldn't she be cold?

* * *

Ami climbed down from the tree gingerly. Her body protested her every movement as she slid down the final branches of the trunk. The men had left early this morning but Ami had waited the extra hour to be sure that she would not be caught in their hands.

She stretched when she hit the bottom and blinked at the morning sun. Running a hand over her face, she made her way toward the poor soul that had been captured last night. As she neared, she had little hope of the survival of the victim. Her body, it was definitely female, was covered in blood and flies rested on her rotting body.

Ami held her nose as the smell of sex and urine permeated her defenses. Finally she knelt by the body and pressed two fingers to the pulse in her neck. She sighed relief when she found one and turned the body over to lie on its back.

The girl was beautiful, or at least she would be if she weren't covered in blood, urine, and semen.

Ami pushed the girl gently trying to wake her but to no avail. Sighing she went over to the tree line and made a crude sled out of fallen branches.

It was a trial even to get the girl onto the contraption but finally she did and she began the trek to the lake. It would be a long walk but utterly worth it. The males did not go next to the lake. It was guarded by men who still had some honor in them. It would be the perfect place for this girl to rest until she was healed.

A lump rose in Ami's throat as she looked back at the girl and saw Serena's face and Serena's body.

No. Serena would kill herself before she let that happen to her. She was sure of it.

But she could not ignore the fact that Serena had been gone for over two weeks. Tears trekked down her face. If Serena could have come back, she would have. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that her friend was dead.

Ami shook her head. She couldn't deal with that right now. She had to get to the lake and take care of her new charge.

She sighed as she shifted her weight. It would be a long walk.

* * *

Lita groaned as she slowly clawed her way through the darkness that, even now, threatened to pull her into its abyss. She was patient as each part of her body came alive with a fierce rush of heat that almost made her smile.

But there was nothing to smile about.

She had no one and now... Her injuries were too many to count and she felt dirty and gritty. She wanted a hot bath and a warm mattress but knew that both were in short supply. So instead she allowed herself to be pulled back down memory lane where her parents were alive and there was no need to worry about baths, food, injuries, or even-

"Hey you're awake!"

The excited voice broke her out of her reverie and she blinked her eyes open to stare at the blue-haired girl that had ruined her moment of happiness.

An intense rush of anger filled her as everything came back to her. Back when her parents were alive she had not had to worry about foul men who took pleasure from violence. She shuddered as the feel of the hands, mouths, and organs returned to her body. The stench from the passing hit her full force and the girl pulled her onto her hands and knees as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

Even after she was done her stomach rebelled and hot tears clouded her vision.

Why?

Of all the women, or even men, that they could have had they had chosen her. There were so many stronger women who might have been able to carry such a burden, but she could not. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for death.

Regret tore at her. She should never have fought the darkness, it was her friend. Her only friend now. But even as she said this, she became aware of the hand on her back and the cool cloth on her forehead. The whispered words of comfort filled her ears until she began to fall off into a deep, uneasy sleep.

Maybe this time she wouldn't wake up.

* * *

"I'm sorry about your friend."

The voice startled her, but she refused to acknowledge his presence. In the weeks that she had been there they had not become friends. They had argued relentlessly and even fought a few times, although she was the one hitting and him dodging, and in doing so had learned each others strengths and weaknesses. They knew how far to push and when to back off. She had thought that she had taught him that Ami was a subject that was off limits.

She was wrong.

"If it makes any difference to you, my men found poison on the site and Zoicite found it to be fast-acting. If it was used on her than she died quickly with little pain."

Fury erupted in her and she turned burning blue eyes on the Prince of Hope. She could have spit on the name. If there was anything that Darien Shields brought her, it was not hope. She wanted to murder him and she would have if he had not caught her fist first.

She blinked. How on great earth had she ended up so close to him? She glanced back at the cot she had been occupying and then back at her captured wrist. She blinked again.

"I'll let it go if you promise to behave yourself."

But she couldn't. How could he think that telling her that her soul-sister had died a quick death, hell any kid of death for that matter, would comfort her? She wanted to hurt him and she wanted to hurt him bad. She brought her knee up quickly and he barely managed to grab her knee, bringing it around his waist.

Her eyes widened and he quickly realized his mistake.

Too late.

She brought her other hand up quick and full of power and, with both hands occupied, he couldn't block it. He heard his jaw crack before he actually felt the pain and prayed that it wasn't broken again.

Checking it was out of the question though, as Serena continued to hail punches on her repenting foe. He should never have pulled her leg up. It reminded her too much of the way Ami had died. She hadn't had a choice and probably couldn't have fought off all those men. However, Serena did have a choice and she refused to allow herself to be cowed, least of all by Darien.

He caught her fist as it made another attempt at his face. He quickly pulled her arm so that her body twisted and her back was to him. He bought his other arm around her shoulders and twisted her arm up to show her the position she was in.

He should have broken the arm.

She lifted her foot and hit home.

He crumbled.

"Never touch me again and NEVER speak about Ami. Am I understood?"

Despite his obvious pain he managed to pull himself into a kneeling position without further injury to himself. He hoped he could still have kids.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

Her eyes watered but she refused to let her tears fall. Instead she went after him again but he caught her and positioned himself on top of her, holding her hands and legs captive.

She struggled viciously against him.

"Let go of me."

"No! Not until you let this out. You can't keep this bottled up, it'll kill you, and I much prefer your scathing presence to your unbearable death."

It was the closest she would get to him saying that he cared about her. For now, anyway. But that's not what she wanted. If she could trade Darien's scarce feelings for her for Ami's life, her decision would be simple. But, unfortunately, life was not simple, and Ami wasn't coming back. The tears came, but not the hot choking sobs that had nearly broken her body in half. No, these were tears acceptance... and revenge.

Ami was dead.

There was no escaping the absolution of that fact but while there was still breath in her body, Serena would make sure that every, last one of those damn bastards died.

By her hands only.

* * *

Darien ran a hand over his eyes.

Eyes.

That's what kept him up tonight. Her eyes.

He didn't know when it had happened but his feelings for the dumb blonde had matured into something more significant.

Maybe it was when she had almost dislocated his jaw.

He rubbed the swollen area ruefully. As fighters came, Serena was pretty damn good, he just thanked his lucky stars that he was better.

He sighed as his thoughts came full circle. He had held her until she fell asleep, and even then her eyes had been burned into his skull. The look he had seen there.

Pure, unadulterated hate.

He pitied the monsters that had taken her friends from her. Shaking his head, Darien retreated to the comfort of his bed, knowing he wouldn't get much sleep.

When he had told her to heal, he hadn't meant this. She should not be polluted by such a crime as murder. There was only one solution.

Kill the bastards before they, in turn, killed Serena's spirit.

* * *

Remember to review :)


	4. Stealth

She could remember the first time she realized that she didn't love her father. The moment hadn't really been anything of any great significance; there was no fight or indication for a fight.

In all actuality she had simply been laying on her bed contemplating the horrors of her life when the thought had occurred to her that she didn't love her father. At the time her seven year old mind had not fully contemplated the repercussions of such a mindset but she had made the decision to at least try to love him.

After all, it was not normal for one not to love one's father. It simply wasn't done. Not for Serena anyway. She had done her best to love everyone and in turn they had done their best to destroy her. As a result she loved from a distance.

When her father woke up in the morning he always had toast and a cup of coffee. Her classmates never went for want of pencils or other such supplies. And her Grandpa never went for want of companionship.

She had tried so hard to love everyone so that they didn't live with the pain she did because, no matter who caused her pain, no one should have their father look at them as less than human. No one should have to watch their mother get beaten while they hide beneath the kitchen table and watch. No one should have to clutch their grandfather's bloody body and look at the remains of the neighborhood they had grown up in.

But she had. She had seen things no one should have ever seen but somehow, with Amy's help, she had managed to piece her life back together and the two seven year olds had survived. Amy had shown her that love could be a powerful thing. Serena's love for her best friend was what had allowed them to persevere where others, older and wiser than them, had shriveled and died.

Now after everything that she had gone through, after all of her hardships and toils, Serena had given up on love.

It seemed pointless to love anyone if all they did was die. Serena wasn't stupid. She had realized long ago that death was a part of life. That the second you took your first breath you became part of a dying world. She had accepted that.

At least she thought she had.

If she were to be honest with herself, this just wasn't about Amy or love. It was about life in general.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair as she looked over the remains of her old home. Rats littered the place now and Serena would be hard put to get them out of there. She didn't want to.

She sat down on the cold pavement and tried to remember the smell of grass, of flowers, of any type of vegetation whatsoever.

She couldn't.

She tried to remember her Grandfather's embrace, his scent, his smile.

She couldn't.

A tear trekked down her cheek.

She tried to remember the last time she had told Amy she loved her.

She couldn't

She tried to remember anything good about this world. Fun, ice-cream, cookies, tag, swings, slides, laughter….

There.

She remembered laughter.

She had heard it not to long ago from a one Darien Shields. Of course he had been laughing because she had accidentally on purpose kicked Matthew in the balls, but that didn't matter.

He had laughed because of her.

She opened her eyes and looked at her old home and then to the glass shard she clutched in her hand. She drew a shuddering sigh and dropped her makeshift knife.

Not today.

She stood and headed back to her new home. Back to the man who would never know that he had saved her life by simply laughing.

"So do you have a name?"

The blue-haired genius raised an eyebrow. It had taken Serena two weeks to talk to her and this girl had done it in three days.

She sighed; this one would be a talker.

"Well do you?"

Amy looked up at the sky and prayed for strength. She hated talkers.

"It's Ami."

"Well I'm Lita and I just thought I should let you know that I hate you."

That changed things.

"Hate me? I saved your life!"

"You didn't save my life you ruined my death!"*

Amy blinked again unable to wrap her brain around that concept. She shook her head, not only did she have a talker, but a deranged and suicidal talker at that.

She didn't need strength; she needed a shot of vodka and a whole lot of patience.

She turned and with everything she had slapped the girl powerfully across the face.

"Do not EVER talk to me like that again. If you don't want to live keep it to yourself. There are tons of people out there that are dead; people that deserve to be alive, that should be alive. And then there are people like you who insist on killing themselves simply because they've been through a terrible experience and they feel as if there's no getting back from where they are. Look around you moron. We live in hell and if we ever want to get out of here we can't simply kill ourselves or each other for that matter, we need to work together to build a place our children can be safe in; a place where we can be happy and not suicidal. But if you insist on killing yourself I won't stop you, but don't expect me to help you either."

With that said she turned and again started walking toward her old home. She needed to get her papers and see if by some miracle Serena had managed to get home safely. The hope was minimal but it was there and that would be all she needed.

Behind, her she heard footsteps and it didn't take a genius to realize that she wasn't the only one hoping for a brighter future. She was just one of the few who knew how to ignite that hope in others.

The fire burned.

He kicked and screamed but it still burned and all around him echoed laughter. He could hear it in the darkest recesses of his mind and knew that the memory of the flames would haunt him for years to come.

The world had always been a pretty screwy place and Darien had never expected very much from it but he had always dreamed of being successful; of traveling the world and making his mark. '

It was one of the reasons he had studied so hard in history and world issues classes. He wanted to know everything about the world. He wanted to delve into the very center of the earth and find out how a planet that held such beauty and wonder could house such hate and despair.

Darien was one of the few ten year olds that had accepted the fact that the world was not perfect and had never been one to harbor such childish fantasies as world peace; although he did one day want to grow up to be Santa Claus.

But, even with his vast knowledge and astute nature, even he had not fathomed the end of the world to come so quickly.

It had started out as a petty spat as far as wars went. Someone had insulted a president of the United States. That, for the most part, was not unusual. What was unusual was that said president's son would one day take the oath of office and seek revenge for dear old daddy.

He had the perfect excuse when terrorists deliberately and viscously attacked the United States with no just cause. Even at this stage no one could predict that the beginning of the end had begun.

The war wasn't a failure but it wasn't a success either. What it was, was a distraction.

Occupied with natural disasters and a war that no one supported, the great democracy that had survived decades began to crumble when the first of the bombs struck.

Darien hadn't been affected by it; the people in New York had. A mass evacuation of the tri-state area was issued and many of the survivors found themselves faced with yet more bombs.

Fighter planes patrolled the skies but to no avail. There were no enemies to shoot down and the missiles were to fast for anyone to hope to deter. The United States attacked its closest enemy: Cuba.

That was a huge mistake. The second American troops touched down on Cuban soil, Cuba ceased to exist. It followed Atlantis into Davy Jones' locker.

With its closest enemy gone and with dwindling troops the United States turned on allies and all hell broke loose. Immigration was brought to a stand still. No one left and no one came in. Other countries implemented the same rules but even so, if a country had an American citizen in its borders they were bombed until that American was killed.

Great Britain tried to help its daughter country but with Americans blaming everyone in sight and the attackers killing anyone who offered aid, it was just deemed safer for everyone to abandon the United States to its fate.

It was genocide to the highest degree and all of this was witnessed by countless people and a ten year old boy.

With the world changing around him, Darien had decided that he too needed a change, or at the very least a modification. He decided that he would still travel the world, only this time he would be a soldier when he did it.

With those childish dreams in his head Darien had slept soundly in a home as of yet still untouched by the war. A place he thought would remain forever unscathed; a place that had been the first to be invaded the second his head had hit the pillow.

He didn't remember much about that night. He remembered his mother's screams and his father telling him to hide but other than that it was the heat of the flames as his home burned around him and he watched from the closet as his parents were murdered in front of him. He'd wanted to save them, to be the soldier he was meant to be but, he hadn't been able to concentrate.

It was so very hot.

"It never gets better."

That was the first thing she had said to him when he had come to stand behind her. At first he had thought she hadn't noticed his arrival but when she spoke all thoughts of his suave James Bond impression flew out the door.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair not bothering to speak. He already knew what she was referring to.

"I've lost so many people and I thought that I'd be prepared to lose many more but- I was wrong. No amount of pain or suffering could make you prepared to lose someone you love."

She turned to him then her blonde hair framing her face beautifully.

"What's the point of loving if the people you love always die? Is it because I loved them? Am I cursed to be alone? You have an entire army behind you and yet all of your best friends are still alive. How long have you been fighting? How many people have died that you loved?" She turned her head away at that moment regretting the question instantly. Her brain wanted to know but her heart refused the answer. It didn't matter she had decided she didn't have a heart anymore; not if this is what came of having one.

She felt strong arms wrap around her and she turned her face into his shirt allowing her tears to fall. His voice resonated through his chest, comforting her with its vibrations.

"I've seen people die almost every day since this all began. My parents, my friends…they're all dead and I did nothing to stop it. But I wouldn't trade loving them for the entire world." He pulled her face up so that her eyes made contact with his and with either thumb wiped away her tears.

"Amy would never want you to regret loving her, none of them would. And I would be pretty darn pissed if you regretted loving me after I died."

She tensed and he blinked.

Neither of them said anything; there really wasn't anything they could say to erase what he had just implied.

Finally he cleared his throat. "I didn't mean it like… I know you don't love me, hell we can barely stand each other most of the time but I'd like to think that you'd miss me at least a little if I died. After all who would bother you then?"

She smiled sadly and then nodded. "I would miss you." _More than you'll ever know._

Mina stifled a smile behind her hand. All of the guards that were supposed to be on duty were asleep in various positions on the floor. One particular pair was holding each other as lovers might.

_Oh daddy would be sooo mad if he were to see this._

And at that moment Mina could clearly see an image of the irate Mr. Thomson kicking at the sleeping guards and knew she would pay good money to see such a thing. But she couldn't. Even if she wanted to there was no way that she could stay and lose the one chance that she might have at escaping the imprisoning fortress.

She had planned this escape for days. Well actually most of her life but the actual plan had taken shape in just three days. Mina mentally patted herself on the back for the simplicity of her plan. She had taken the keys to one of the supply trucks that came to her house on a weekly basis and loaded it with everything she had deemed necessary.

Food was of course the most prominent factor, then the clothes then games and televisions, and she had brought blankets and cozy slippers as well.

Yes, Mina had even ordered a dozen cell phones for the use of her first twelve friends.

She smiled to herself as she tiptoed pass the sleeping guards. She was indeed a genius, and no one could outsmart a genius.

She repeated that mantra to herself as she revved the engine to the truck and backed out of her garage door...or rather into it. She smiled sheepishly. _Good thing no one was here to see that._

The irony of the situation was not lost on Mina as the alarm system went off and guards streamed from almost every door. Quickly she pushed the system override button on the trucks dashboard and watched the garage door open. More of her father's militia men stood guard there to.

_Ok god must seriously hate me._

"Once upon a time, the world was a peaceful place. Only two humans were alive back then, Adam and Eve. They had a friend in God and he protected them form everything that would cause them harm, all he asked in return was that they did not eat from a specific tree: the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Disobedience turned out to be man's greatest flaw as the couple turned away from god and he in turn turned away from them. Or at least he pretended to turn away from them. God watched as man became more and more corrupt, and in an effort to save them from themselves he sent his son, his most prized possession, to them to cleanse them with his life-blood. But even now, after all of God's efforts men hate, men kill, and men cheat. There is not one person upon the face of this earth who has not sinned in the eyes of God. All we can hope for is his mercy, and his everlasting love. It's all we should dare hope for."

The little boy looked up at his father and shook his head.

"No papa I don't believe you."

The graying man turned to the small child before him and raised an eyebrow as he took another drag from his pipe.

"Is that so young one? Look around you. Look at what our country has done to the world. We are in a nuclear war, a war that people in my day worked so hard to stop and yet fought so hard to accomplish. Do you really think that we should expect anything other than mercy?"

Eyes filled with wisdom looked up at the man who had created that first bomb. Whose guilt sometimes weighed him down so heavily that sometimes he couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. He had tried killing himself so many times but every time he failed. And as he looked down at his son, he thought he finally understood why.

"Yes papa, you said God loved us, that it was everlasting. When I make mistakes you still love me and it's the same with God. So we can expect sir, we can hope that one day maybe we won't have to live like this anymore. That we can walk with a being who loves us unconditionally and we won't have to look so hard to find it here on earth 'cause we'll be in paradise."

And with that said, the old man cried.

Stealth: that was what was needed to pass time. If a person had enough stealth then they could pass whole days without having to worry about being killed. Yes, if he believed himself to be a shadow, then he would be a shadow. It was all mental, all-

"You know I can see you right?"

He fell face first in shock, see him? He was a damn shadow. No one was supposed to see him. And then it hit him it was all a ploy to get him to come out. Yes that was-

"Ow!"

Okay maybe she could see him. The "shadow" rubbed his head as the girl who was supposed to be protecting him lowered her now red hand.

"When I say I can see you I mean it. I mean honestly since when have you ever been good at hiding?"

"I am a master of disguise. I can be anything and anyone. Stealth is the key to a long life."

"And that's why you won't live past 20."

The eighteen year old shook his head. This was getting ridiculous, every time he raised his self-esteem just a little bit, she would come and knock him down a few feet. But then again that was why he loved her. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

"You are a sad, evil little girl you know that Ray?"

Raven locks fell into the girl's chocolate eyes.

"Yes sir and I'm damn proud of it! I lived this long by being who I am."

"No you lived this long by being a damn suck-up!"

Another hit to his head silenced him as he glowered at her. She simply rolled her eyes.

"If you hang onto those stupid morals of yours you won't last long. Stop thinking of me as a girl and think of me as a threat, someone who could easily kill you; hit me for once in your life."

"You could never be a threat to me. No one could. I've been in camps since I was in diapers; I used to go to military school!"

She smiled and shook her head. This oaf? Military school? She looked around her at the camp and then back to her only friend. She didn't mean to be so cruel but her life's experiences had hardened her to a point that she couldn't turn back from. Chad on the other hand, he had somehow managed to keep his sense of humor. How he had managed that she didn't know and wasn't sure she cared. He was the one thing that kept her going when she wanted so badly to just lie down and rest. But now he was lying to her and she didn't take kindly to lies, so when she hit him again she didn't feel bad.

The foot-steps were what made her regret it as he hurriedly pulled himself to his feet as guards came up. Great, now he might have a concussion and do something stupid. Chad smiled at them charmingly and bowed low.

"Gentlemen I apologize for even daring to breathe the same air as you, I and my humble friend would like nothing more than to remove ourselves from your presence so that you won't have to look at such as us."

Yep, he did something stupid.

The guards sneered at the brown-haired man and shoved him so that he fell hard onto his rear. Ray would have liked the man to get up and fight but instead he kept that damn smile on his face and bowed still lower so that his forehead touched the ground.

"I apologize if I have offended you great ones. Please accept my apologies as I go in peace."

He was answered with a kick in his side.

"I think this chap aught to learn that he ain't supposed to speak unless spoken to Zhan. Otherwise we might find ourselves in his groveling presence again."

The man, "Zhan", turned to look at his companion and then to the raven haired beauty that stood off to the side. Chad followed his eyes and quickly stood with a fluid grace Ray had never seen him use before.

He smiled but there was something else there this time, something dangerous.

"Sirs, if you would I again apologize and I will commit to memory the two men who schooled me in the correct mannerisms due men such as yourselves, but if you'd excuse me, me and my disease-ridden friend must be on our way."

"And what if we don't like your plan?" Zhan shoved at him, but Chad didn't so much as flinch or move for that matter. When had he become so strong? For a second Ray allowed herself to hope he might fight for her and they would run away together. Instead he smiled and shook his head.

"Then I'll pay you to like it." And the oaf pulled out a handful of bills and shoved them at the guard, who took them, looked at Ray and then stalked off, his companion in tow.

As soon as they were out of sight, Chad turned to Ray with a huge smile on his face and rubbed his hands together sinisterly.

"Well that was fun, wasn't it?"

Ray shook her head and walked away ignoring his call for her to come back. Her prince would have fought for her. He would have laid his life on the line for her, but Chad had simply parted from a couple of bills; she pushed away the thought that money was extremely hard to come by in the camps. Without it he might well die and so in some twisted way he had indeed laid his life down for her, but she ignored that logic and continued to stalk off.

She paused when she came to the cave that served as her home and sat down on the cool ground. Releasing a sigh, she looked over at the setting sun. Maybe one day the oaf would wake up and realize that the world wasn't a game to be played.

Little did she know that Chad's oafish humor was truly his greatest strength. It was why he had lived so long; no one ever believed him capable of anything but foolishness, and there was no danger in a fool. But when the time came and there was a chance for something better, a new place to be stealthy in, Chad would take it, and he would be well equipped to do so.

It was as the young man had said: stealth was the key to a long life.


End file.
